Ties of the Soul
by chihoeek
Summary: When Evie heads to London, the last thing she expects is to meet a crime-solving duo. As she becomes tied into multiple cases, she finds herself becoming more interested and more alive than ever before in her life. How will this meeting change her? And could it change the duo as well?
1. Chapter 1

**I am a relatively new fan of Sherlock who has only just dipped her toes into the entire fandom. I've only watched the series, I haven't read the books, so please don't go absolutely nuts if I make a mistake, though I would appreciate if you would point it out to me. I want to make this as good as I can, so please offer suggestions or pointers on how I can improve. If you like my story, please tell me so! I really would appreciate it!**

* * *

"Welcome to London!" I stole a glance at the figure in front of me, the back of his head sprouting patches of golden hair. _ Doesn't he know that looks absurd? He should just shave it all off… it would look better._ His eyes caught mine in the rear-view mirror, and he smiled, a not-so-genuine smile, towards me. Of course this was probably a normal routine for him, he was a taxi driver at the airport, he had to be nice to visitors.

I smiled warmly, offering a nod to the man. "Thank you." Not much left to say there. Looking towards the window, I ran a hand through my own brown locks of hair, currently soaked by the rain. London was a very wet place, or so I've heard, but it also seemed quite beautiful. The roar of jet engines overhead bothered me, so I quickly pulled out my earphones. _Of course they are tangled, they always are._ Before I could drown out the noise with music, the man began to speak again, pulling out from the curb.

"Are you a tourist? You don't sound like you're from around here." He watched the road ahead of him, so he couldn't see me roll my eyes.

"Something like that." I really was not in the mood to discuss my business with him. But he just didn't want to shut up.

"Oh really? London is a beautiful city. I came here myself 20 years ago for work. Of course, back then I wasn't a taxi driver." He laughed heartily, smacking the side of the driver's wheel._ It's not really that funny…_ Even so, I giggled out of courtesy and continued unraveling my earphones. "So, where are you from? Nah, let me guess… the U.S.?"

I nodded, silently pleading for a plane to crash down on me right now so I didn't have to talk to this man. "Yep." I stuck one of the earphones in my ear, the one closest to him. Maybe he'd take the hint?

"My…" Nope, hint not taken. "...you're the quiet type, ain't ya?" No I wasn't, I just really didn't feel like talking to this man. I could feel his eyes watching me through the mirror as I continued looking out the window. I liked watching the raindrops race one another, as childish as it may seem, it was somewhat entertaining. Silence filled the cab, and he finally seemed to get the hint as he returned his eyes to the streets in front of him. Perhaps it was the nagging guilt of being somewhat rude to the man, or perhaps it was my mother's whispered words long ago about manners that possessed me to speak.

"I can be quiet." I stated, smirking at my own decision to speak._ What kind of idiot am I?_

He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at me. "I can see. So, where's a young lady like yourself from in the U.S.?"

I shrugged, looking back towards the front of the car. "I'm from around, Sir."

He laughed as if I said something funny. "Around, eh? Tell me some places." He paused a moment, tossing a business card in the back seat beside me. "And no need to call me Sir, Damion is just fine."

_I'm the most idiotic-idiot an idiot could meet, apparently._ I plucked the card from the seat and skimmed over the letters.

_**Damion S. Oswald**_

_**Personal Chauffeur**_

_**(020) XXXX-XXXX**_

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Damion." I smiled, tucking the card into the pocket of my jacket. "And I was most recently in New York, to answer your question."

"Ah, New York! I lived there before!" _Oh joy, more to talk about then?_ "It's a beautiful city, still is from what I see on the news. It's a shame what happened to those towers though…" _Is the World Trade Center still a relevant topic to discuss with a taxi driver? I thought that was old information._

"Sure is…" I mumbled, hoping this conversation was over. I was not so lucky.

"So, you're headed to The Landmark London Hotel? Place is nice." I hummed in agreement. "Sherlock Holmes lives around there too! Maybe you'll meet him."

What was he going on about? "Sherlock Holmes?" I questioned, not even bothering to look the man's way. This Holmes guy must be some sort of celebrity if a taxi driver expected me to know about him.

"Ah, yes, Sherlock Holmes! He's a detective of some kind. He's got a website, if you want to look it up." He smiled at me through the mirror. "I think it's called The Science of Deduction." I grunted noncommittally, the driver seemed unimpressed by my lack of interest and wonderful caveman sounds. How rude of him. "He helped me out a while back when I was in trouble. Got me off a fraud charge that would have cost me thousands." So Sherlock Holmes was some sort of lawyer as well? Great, maybe I could get his business card too.

"I'll look it up." Not really, I probably wouldn't, sounded like a bore to me.

"You should. He deserves a lot more credit than he gets." The man nodded as if agreeing with himself, then spun the wheel to turn. It was odd being driven on the left side of the road…_ I'll probably stick to riding a bike or bus while I'm here._ The remainder of the ride was silent, well, there wasn't any talking between us at least. I listened to music, and he occasionally cursed at passing bad drivers when he thought I couldn't hear.

As we pulled up to the curb, I yanked the earphones from my ears, a little more roughly than I should have. I pulled my wallet from my pocket, and peeked at the meter in front. Wow, these cabs were cheaper than the ones in New York. I handed Damion the money and pushed the door open, stepping out and grabbing my luggage from the backseat.

"Hey, I never caught your name!" He smiled, looking over his shoulder at me. I leaned back into the car, smiling mischievously as the rain continued to pound on my back.

"I never gave it." Closing the door swiftly, I spun away from the taxi cab and entered the hotel, backpack swung over one shoulder. I liked to travel light, made for less things to keep track of.

It didn't take me long to reach my hotel room, thankfully, and after plopping my luggage on the floor beside my bed, I examined the room thoroughly. It was a lovely room, decorated finely with golden colored furnishings and wooden cabinets. I took a few minutes getting acquainted to the room, then undressed and used one of the supplied robes from the hotel. My clothes were drenched, so I draped them over the shower bar. Only moments later, a knock at my door interrupted my solitude.

I opened the door a crack, feeling it was impersonal to speak through the door. Two men stood before me, both seemingly out of breath. "May we use your window?"

I stood dumbfounded, "M-my window? Um… why?" Who were these men? I looked at them carefully, taking note of their height and hair, their eyes, their features. One in particular had very prominent cheek bones, and the other had a very pleasant but sturdy face. If I'm attacked by these men, I could spot them in a lineup.

"Yes, we are chasing someone." I was left with no time to react as the taller of the men pushed open the door and ran towards the window, paying me no mind. I clutched my robe tighter as the shorter of the men addressed me.

"I apologize for our intrusion. We'll be out of your hair-"

"John, come here, I need some help." The man at the window called to the man beside me. So the shorter man's name was John, okay, we're getting somewhere. John gave me a glance then went towards his friend swiftly. "John, I need you to hold my hand for a moment." The man was halfway out the window as he offered John his hand. John sighed, grabbing the man's hand firmly and allowing the man to tumble out the window.

I gasped as I watched all but his hand disappear from view. John also seemed surprised by the action as he took a more solid stance. "Warn me next time, Sherlock!" Wait… Sherlock? The detective lawyer guy that the taxi driver told me about? What? _Aha, I get it, this is one of those interactive play things, right?_ The fact ran through my mind, but that didn't make this any less weird. John seemed to be losing some of his traction as his feet began slipping.

I didn't have time to think about it as I reached out and wrapped my hands around John's and Sherlock's, attempting to help them stay steady. Even if this was some sort of play, I wouldn't have anyone falling when I could help. It was only now that I noticed Sherlock was swinging, trying to kick the glass window of the room beneath mine. "Thank you, Miss."

I looked sideways at the man beside me, offering a smile. "Evie. You can call me Evie." A shatter of glass sounded below just as Sherlock's hand slipped from both of ours. After stumbling for my balance, my eyes widened as I headed to look out the window in worry. The man seemed to have fallen into the room, rather than down towards the street below. I sighed in relief as I looked at John who was now picking himself up from the ground and was beginning to look out the window himself.

He mumbled something under his breath as he looked towards the street below. His eyes fixated on me and he seemed to want to say something. I suppose he thought better of it, because a moment later he clutched the windowsill and swung out the window himself and into the room below.

As I looked below at the broken window, one thought crossed my mind._ Looks like I'll be reading the Science of Deduction tonight._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2! I hope you guys enjoy~ please comment or favorite if you like it. And thanks to those people who followed and favorited~ you have my love 3**

* * *

I had spent the remainder of that evening sitting on the leather upholstered chair that sat beside the window, attempting to rationalize what had happened only a few hours before. Initially, I had believed that the entire scenario was a daydream, a hallucination due to my lack of sleep. When sirens had sounded on the streets, and a commotion was heard through the broken window of the room below, I was rudely awakened to the fact that the whole ordeal hadn't been a dream.

And so, I sat there, mulling over what had just happened to me. Two men had barged into my room, jumped out my window, and from what the voices below are saying, they had caught a serial killer. _Well… that's enough excitement for tonight. _I sighed, moving to the window and taking one last glance below before shutting it tightly. Who would have expected my first day in London to go down like this? Certainly not me. I plucked the remote from the desk in the room and pressed the power button, watching as the television hissed to life. It was on a news channel, the weather was shown to be rainy for 2 more days and then cloudy for the rest of the week_. Yeah right! If they're anything like the meteorologists in America, it'll probably be sunshine and rainbows by tomorrow morning… _I chuckled at the thought.

After that lovely bit of prediction, they went back to a story about a toddler who had somehow helped save a man from death. I didn't really listen though, because my mind wandered to the computer in my backpack. _I don't think I…_ without another thought, I scrambled over to my bag and dug out my computer and the cord that came with it. _Aha! Glad I didn't forget this time._ I had the odd habit of leaving my laptop cord at my mother's home, giving me an unfathomable amount of chargers that I kept having to buy over and over again on my trips. If I piled all the wires in one place, the mound would rival Everest's highest peak. This time though, I had succeeded in bringing my own charger. _This is perhaps my greatest accomplishment in life, maybe I should just quit while I'm so far ahead_.

Carrying my rather dated laptop with me, I plopped onto the leather chair and flipped open the computer. I _should_ be hanging my wears in the closet, but I really wanted to look up this website…_ What's it called again? The Deduction? Deduction Science? Bah, I'll just look up Sherlock Holmes._ I typed away nimbly at the keyboard, my fingers quite accustomed to the action. My laptop was pretty much my life, well… my social life, at least. After going through the tedious task of waiting for the thing to connect to the internet properly, I finally was able to go on Google and look up the much desired information.

To my _lack_ of surprise, there was actually a lot of information on the mister Sherlock Holmes. I skimmed over the listings, spotting several news reports on him, as well as a very popular picture of the man with a silly hat._ Aww, how adorable!_ I snickered. The news reports all seemed to agree, that while he was a genius in the field of detective work, he was ill trained on social interaction, putting it nicely. _So basically, he's just an arse._ I mulled over the thought, comparing the ideas with my own experience. Well… I couldn't really tell, I hadn't _had_ any real interaction. As I continued scrolling, I spotted a familiar title.

_**The Science of Deduction**_

_Aha! Found it!_ I excitedly entered the site, and looked through the information. _What's a consulting detective?_ I pondered the idea, flicking my fingers as I relaxed into the seat beneath me. As I continued reading, hoping to uncover the answer, I couldn't help but find his page… self-important. _"Interesting cases only"? How would they know what interests you? _Everyone's perception was different, did he expect everyone to share his opinion? _Well, at least he said please._

I was so very tempted to look for his telephone number and question him thoroughly on his methods, but it was already getting very late, and it would be rude to call now. This all making the assumption that he did indeed _have _his phone number listed. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't. I yawned, taking a moment to click on one of the websites' tab called Case Files. I had to admit, the website was pretty impressive in design.

After skimming over the headings, I noticed that most of them contained a link for his colleague's summary, rather than actual explanations of the cases. **"Oh!"** I only just realized that the summaries were written by a mister John Watson._ I'm guessing it's the same John I met earlier_. I couldn't click on the links any faster as I yawned once more. It seemed that this man was an Afghan-veteran who served as a medical doctor. _Impressive…_ I read over a few of the case files, becoming quite interested in contents. _Wow, these guys are fantastic!_ _They should make their stories into novels._ Despite my growing interest, my yawns became more and more frequent as I read, and soon, my eyes began to shut without my consent. After almost falling over the chair, I decided that this was _not_ the time to continue my endeavours.

I closed the laptop and stood up, placing it lightly on the desk. I still needed to unpack… _Damn it._ I peeked at the alarm clock beside the bed and gasped. _Have I really been researching these guys that long?! _It had been a total of 4 hours spent on my computer, as the clock now read 11 P.M. I sighed, mumbling some profanities at myself as I grabbed the bag beside the bed.

I hadn't brought much in the way of clothing, so it only took me a few minutes to hang it all in the closet. After plugging in my laptop and connecting my phone charger to the wall near the nightstand, I checked the still moist fabric that hung from the shower rail. I then began my normal nightly routine of showering, brushing my teeth, and the added task of braiding my pin-straight hair. After that was finished, I shut the lights, using the glow of the television to find my way to the bed where I had placed the remote and my cell phone.

I clicked the keys on my Blackberry and sent a text to my mother stating I was safe, and that I was going to bed. She replied momentarily telling me goodnight as well, and that she had some news for me when I woke up in the morning. I attached the phone to it's charger and set it on the nightstand beside me, using my free hand to click the television remote's power button until the only light that remained in the room was the shred of light that seeped in the curtains from the street lamps outside. Minutes later, after cocooning myself in the blanket, I was fast asleep.

I awoke to the less-than-pleasant thud of my head, along with the rest of my body, hitting the floor. _Ugh… dammit._ Where normal people often woke to an alarm clock, or the birds chirping, or even sunlight coming through the curtains, I often found myself waking with my head where my feet should be. Bad news, I've gotten multiple concussions from hitting the wooden floors too hard, good news, hitting your head works surprisingly better than a cup of coffee when you need to wake up. Rubbing my head lightly where it had contacted the ground, I craned my neck to see what time it was.

_**7:32**_

Perfect. I can still go for a run and be ready by 9 o'clock. Grasping the tossled bed sheets, I pulled myself up onto my heels. After a moment of light-headedness, I plucked my phone from the nightstand and grazed the notifications. 3 texts. The first message was from Stacy, a nurse who stopped by my mothers on occasion to check up on her while I wasn't there. Fun fact: she was a good friend from high school.

_**Hey, how r the french peeps treating u? Ur mom is good, chatty like always. Have fun**_

Okay, so she wasn't the best with geography and couldn't differentiate between France and the United Kingdom. If that was her biggest flaw, which it is, I'd be a lucky friend. The next two texts were from my mother.

_**Call me when u wake up, I have some news. Miss you**_

_Right, she had mentioned that last night._ I clicked on the final message.

_**Gkj as ddxxsxxxxxccccccc**_

I snickered, my mother has sent me so many buttdials, I'm starting to question her ass's supernatural properties. Clicking away at the keys, I sent an equally garbled text to my mum that made absolutely no sense. I don't think she even realizes how many butt-dials I receive on a weekly basis. Sighing, I went through my contact list and put the phone to my ear after clicking on my mother's number. The dial-tone went on for a little longer than usual, and eventually I heard a deep raspy voice on the phone, one that was all too familiar.

"_Heya, looks like you've missed the Petralia's. We're out and about, so leave us your name and number and we might get back to you! Hope your day is a blast!"_

Then after a beep, I left my message. **"Hey mum. You know, you seriously have to change that machine, it's been that way for ages and it's kind of freaking me out. It's like dad is talking to me from beyond the grave. Anyway… you wanted me to call you? Get back to me when you can."** I hung up, tossing my phone on the bed and breathing deeply as I looked towards the window. It still rained, quite heavily. _Looks like the weatherman was right for once._

I took a moment to contemplate whether I really wanted to go out jogging in this downpour, it took less than a second to decide that rain was not going to kill me. I made my way to the closet and pulled out my black capri "yoga pants", though I have yet to actually use them for that activity, and threw it towards my bed. Along with a ordinary white camisole, I grabbed a grey hoodie and also tossed it on my bed. I performed my morning routine including brushing my teeth, putting on some of the oatmeal lotion that was generously provided by the hotel, and double checking my braided hair in the mirror. I dressed quickly, then grabbed my phone, my room key, my music player, and my wallet and disappeared out the door.


End file.
